“Mainly by his reputation for humor and grotesquerie,” replied the sage.

“He is nothing less than a buffoon!” exclaimed Cugel. “For a fancied slight he threw me to the north of the world, where the sun wheels low and casts no more heat than a lamp. Lucounu must have his joke, but now I will have a joke of my own! You have announced your effusive gratitude, and so, before proceeding to the main body of my desires, we will take a suitable revenge upon Lucounu.”

Zaraides nodded thoughtfully and ran his fingers through his beard. “I will advise you. Lucounu is a vain and sensitive man. His most vulnerable spot is his self-esteem. Turn your back on him, take yourself to another quarter! This act of proud disdain will strike a pang more exquisite than any other discomfort you might devise.”

Cugel frowned. “The reprisal seems rather too abstract. If you will be good enough to summon a demon, I will give him his instructions in regard to Lucounu. The business will then be at an end, and we can discuss other matters.”

Zaraides shook his head. “All is not so simple. Lucounu, himself devious, is not apt to be taken unawares. He would instantly learn who instigated the assault, and the relations of distant cordiality we have enjoyed would be at an end.”

“Pah!” scoffed Cugel. “Does Zaraides the Sage fear to identify himself with the cause of justice? Does he blink and draw aside from one so timid and vacillating as Lucounu?”

“In a word — yes,” said Zaraides. “At any instant the sun may go dark; I do not care to pass these last hours exchanging jests with Lucounu, whose humor is much more elaborate than my own. So now, attend. In one minute I must concern myself with certain important duties. As a final signal of gratitude I will transfer you to whatever locale you choose. Where shall it be?”

“If this is your best, take me then to Azenomei, at the juncture of the Xzan with the Scaum!”

“As you wish. Be so good as to step upon this stage. Hold out your hands thus.... Draw your breath deep, and during the passage neither inhale nor exhale.... Are you ready?”

Cugel assented. Zaraides drew back and called a spell. Cugel was jerked up and away. An instant later the ground touched his feet and he found himself walking the main concourse of Azenomei.

He drew a deep breath. “After all the trials, all the vicissitudes, I am once again in Azenomei!” And, shaking his head in wonder, he looked about him. The ancient structures, the terraces overlooking the river, the market: all were as before. Not far distant was the booth of Fian-osther. Turning his back to avoid recognition, he sauntered away.

“Now what?” he ruminated. “First, new garments, then the comforts of an inn, where I may weigh every aspect of my present condition. When one wishes to laugh with Lucounu, he should embark upon the project with all caution.”